


The Hunter

by TheDarkSideofEnergon



Series: AUgust Insanity [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: AU, First Kiss, M/M, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSideofEnergon/pseuds/TheDarkSideofEnergon
Summary: Drift is a hunter, keeping the forest and villages safe from the beasts of fairy tales and legends. After being drawn out to one particular place with rumors of a Predacon, only to find them false (and Ratchet and his twin sparklings instead), he has taken to regularly cleaning up the forest in that area safer.No particular reason. None at all.But there might very well be something out there after all, not just wolves.Continuation of my day 30 AU ("Fairy Tale") from AUgust.





	The Hunter

Drift prowled through the forest, light on the front of his pedes, sliding them beneath the fallen twigs and leaves to keep them from cracking and rustling, swords drawn and ready for action. He had already killed five wolves today, at the request of the local villagers, saying that the wolves had been killing their chickens and other livestock. They worried that soon, their sparklings would be on the menu. So, much as Drift disliked killing normal animals, he had agreed.

It had been a couple of years since the rumors of a Predacon had drawn Drift out to this part of the forest faster than normal, and while he had moved on from the area, he came back around about once a month to check on the village. 

The cottage five miles to the east where a hermit medic and his two mischievous, matchmaking sparklings lived had absolutely nothing to do with it. Even if he _did_ make it a point to go out there to say hello each time he was in the area, often bringing the twins some sort of treat or toy from another village, or some small knickknack or occasionally useful object for Ratchet.

At the moment, however, he was hunting.

Concentrating on keeping himself as still and quiet as possible, he felt the animal approaching on his right before he heard it.

It leapt out of its hiding place, snarling. Drift spun on the spot, burying his swords into its chest, letting out an oomphf as its corpse bowled him over. Grimacing, he shoved it off of himself and pulled his swords out, cleaning them off on the grass. It was the largest of the beasts he had killed today, and he pulled out a smaller knife to skin it. The other wolf pelts would go to the village, but this one would go to Ratchet. A smile crossed his face at the thought of the other mech. Yes, this would make a good blanket for the twins come wintertime. It was the beginning of fall, now, and the days were slowly turning shorter and crisper.

A half hour later, Drift stood up, bundling the pelt into his subspace and leaving the rest for other animals in the forest. There wasn’t enough mech-consumable energon running through wolves to justify taking it for food, and it wasn’t particularly tasty energon anyways. 

Drift looked up at the sky. It was getting towards twilight, and so he started back toward the village. He encountered no other wolves or threats on his way, despite being on alert the whole time. While he had been originally drawn out here with rumors of a Predacon, he had found no evidence to prove that correct, and had to assume it had been entirely a fabrication on the twin’s part. He’d been in the area anyway, and it had allowed him to meet Ratchet, so he wasn’t entirely unhappy with how the rumors had turned out. 

He walked a little faster, seeing the clearing and torches of the village just ahead. He was looking forward to some dinner and a warm berth. Although… Drift sighed. He would only be here a day or two more, if the hunt continued as well as it had been going the past two or three days, and that thought made him uncomfortable for the first time in his life. He was a wanderer, the Lone Mech, The Hunter. This was what he had chosen the day Wing had deactivated, leaving him with his sword. It’s what he _ wanted _.

But Ratchet’s cottage was warm, and cozy, and Drift would be hard-pressed to find a more comfortable couch he’d recharged on, despite Ratchet’s statements to the contrary.

No. He would move on, keeping the villages safe from the things that roamed the forest. That was his mission. Penance. Whatever one wanted to call it.

Venting again, Drift swung by the tanner to drop off the five smaller (though by no means _ small _) pelts. The tanner, a mech named Freespin, grinned when he saw them.

“Ah, I see you brought me more to work with. Thanks to you, I think we’ll all have wolf-rugs and blankets come wintertime.” 

Drift shrugged. “I hate to kill them for no reason. At least this way they’re giving back for the chickens they’ve taken.”

“True that. I have no problem with a few less wolves, but to each their own.” He looked over the pelts critically, then nodded. “Perfect, as usual. Thanks again.” He started stretching them out, determining how he was going to treat them. Drift waved and moved off toward the small tavern, hoping they still had some hot food left. A plain energon cube was all well and good, but after a long day out, sometimes a mech just wanted more than that. 

You could walk out to Ratchet’s and have carbon cake, a little thread in his processor suggested. Drift firmly killed that thread and focused on the tavern only a few steps in front of him. 

Walking through the door and taking a seat at the bar, the owner nodded at him, already dishing out a bowl of stew. “You just get back into town, Drift?” He asked, sliding the bowl across the counter with a slice of silverbread.

“Yes. Thanks, Swerve.” He dug into the offered food, knowing that Swerve would try and talk to him if he didn’t. 

As he ate, he listened to the conversations around him. There were other hunters in the tavern tonight, talking about the deer and such they had brought down that day.

One of them had a voice that carried louder than the others. 

“I’m telling ya, I heard something that just wasn’t a wolf or a deer. Sounded kinda like a bear, but it wasn’t.”

“You sure you hadn’t already been hitting the engex?” One of his buddies teased, much to the amusement of the others sitting nearby.

The first mech shook his helm vehemently. “Not until after I heard whatever the pit that was. I’m telling ya, it just wasn’t natural.”

Drift, food almost gone, grabbed his bowl and swung over to the table, swinging an empty chair around backwards and straddling it as he finished off the rest of his stew, mopping up the remains with his breadcrust. “Want to tell me more about this creature you heard?”

The hunters all looked to their friend, whos optics cycled a couple of times at suddenly being face to face with a mech that most knew on sight. They’d known he was in town, certainly, seen him at the bar, but there’s a big difference between an intellectual knowledge that something is and the reality of being face-to-face with it. “Uh, well, like I said. I heard pedesteps, thought it was a deer at first, so I started looking around for it. Then I heard the breathing, and I thought it was a wolf. But then it growled, and it sounded like it was coming from the ground itself. I booked it out of there at that point, hoping that it wasn’t following me. It mighta been a bear after all, you know? I didn’t see it or anything.”

Drift nodded, slowly, setting his bowl down on the table. “Can you imitate the growl at all?”

One of the other mechs grinned. “You’re asking the right mech, that’s for sure. Jawcrush here can imitate anything. Hey, remember that time--” 

Drift cut the other mech off with a raised hand, still gazing evenly at the mech, evidently named Jawcrush. Jawcrush thought for a moment, then nodded equally slowly. “I think so, I just…” He swallowed hard, focusing.

Then a sound like a roll of thunder came from the mech’s chest, with the hoarse, throaty sound of a bear mixed in. Drift stilled as the sound came to an end.

“And you’re_ sure _ that’s what it sounded like?”

Jawcrush nodded. “Close as I can get.”

Drift stood up suddenly, making the chair clatter against the table. “Jawcrush, _ where were you when you heard that _?” Drift’s voice was low, dangerous, urgent.

Jawcrush cowered back from the suddenly very intimidating mech. “Uh… maybe like five, six miles that way?” He gestured wildly to one side.

To the east.

Drift pulled out a few credits and tossed them on the bar, making a beeline for the door. “I want everyone to stay indoors for tonight. Everyone, you hear? Douse all the torches, bolt your doors, and do _ not _ come out until morning, got it? Get that around, and _ get in _.”

Swerve came out from behind the bar and grabbed Drift’s arm, making him stop. “What is it?” Swerve’s normally jovial expression was serious.

Drift swallowed, optics narrowed.

“_ Predacon _.”

* * *

Running through the forest, Drift no longer cared about how quietly he was moving. He was not hunting. He was being hunted, and he knew it. He angled toward Ratchet’s cottage.

All he could do was hope that he would make it there before the Predacon found him. Or them. 

Drift’s swords were already out, ready, angled away from his body in case he fell. Not that he would. He knew the feel of the forest floor too well to be tripped up by any root or branch that fell across his path.

He could not hunt the Predacon at night. That was when it was strongest. All he could hope for was to make sure everyone survived the night, that the villagers had listened to him. Tomorrow, _ tomorrow _ he would hunt it, end its threat to the area. 

Tonight, Ratchet and the twins were his priority.

He breathed a vent of relief when he saw the light of Ratchet’s window, the cottage apparently untouched. He ran toward it. As he did, he saw Ratchet by the fire, reading. So they were still alive. He barreled to the door, sword still in hand as he rapped on it sharply. Through the window by the door, he could see Ratchet’s helm snap up. Drift waved to him, urgently. Evidently, Ratchet could see the panic on his face, as he made no delay in getting up and letting Drift in.

“Drift, what’s going--” He started, confused.

“Are the twins in bed?”

“Yes. Or they were, a few minutes ago. Drift, what--”

“Bolt and bar the door. Close all your shutters, bar them, douse your fire.” Drift continued to speak, ignoring Ratchet's question completely. There would be time for that once they were safe.

To Ratchet’s credit, he didn’t delay, pulling the door shut and barring and locking it as Drift said, while Drift made short work of the windows. Drift even ran into Ratchet’s berthroom to check for windows there, closing the one he found, and gathering up a couple extra blankets from Ratchet’s berth. Ratchet doused the fire, lighting a candle before he did.

Drift came back out into the tiny circle of light of Ratchet’s candle, arms now occupied with the blankets. “Is there a window in the twin’s room?” He asked, quietly. While the reason for panic was still there, the act of locking up the cottage and making it as entry-proof and unappealing a target as possible had calmed him significantly.

Ratchet snorted. “Of course not. Don’t trust them with one.”

“Good. We’re going to go in there. I hope they’ll recharge through this.”

“Drift, will you calm down and tell me what’s going on?” Ratchet finally got out, crossing his arms, while still managing to keep the candle upright.

Drift closed his optics, venting out before looking back at Ratchet. “There’s a Predacon in the vicinity. Heard the other hunters from the village talking about some strange noise one of them heard, and I recognized it immediately.”

Ratchet nodded as he turned toward the twin’s room. “Let’s try not to wake them, then. Knowing them, they’ll try to go out and fight it on their own.” He tried to smile, but it came out thin and strained. Drift didn’t smile back.

Ratchet opened the door to the twin’s room. Both of them were curled up on one berth, Sideswipe cuddling Sunstreaker in recharge. Ratchet set the candle on the table between the berths. The twins didn’t stir.

_ ::They’re heavy rechargers _:: Ratchet pinged Drift, who stiffened before relaxing and accepting the commlink.

_ ::Sorry. I never use my comm:: _ Drift apologized.

_ ::Neither do I:: _ Ratchet smiled another thin smile. He sat down on the unoccupied berth, wrapping one of the blankets Drift had thought to grab around himself. Drift sat too, but remained on guard, unclipping both Wing’s sword from his back and the two from his sides and placing them where he would be able to draw them quickly, should it come to that. Ratchet vented softly. _ ::You need to recharge if you’re going back out in the morning:: _

_ ::Can’t. I need to be awake in case it comes here:: _Drift replied, optics still locked on the door.

_ ::For all the twins are heavy rechargers, I am not. And neither are you, I suspect:: _ Ratchet’s tone was heavy, resigned, even over the comm.

_ ::Cost of living rough:: _

_ ::Cost of living alone:: _ Ratchet corrected, reaching up and placing a hand on Drift’s. _ ::Lie down. You ran here, I can tell. You warned us, now rest:: _

Drift looked at the medic, his frame drooping in exhaustion as the energy spike wore off. _ ::You’re correct:: _ He admitted, sinking backward until he was lying down on the berth, though he was still on his side, ready to jump up at any moment. _ ::Sorry to impose on your hospitality again:: _

_ ::Drift:: _ Ratchet’s tone was firm now. _ ::You are not an imposition of any kind. The first time you stayed was because of the belief that you were saving my sparklings. More often than not when you visit, I’ve been the one to suggest you stay rather than go back out at night. And this time you _ are _ saving my kids. Believe me, this is hardly an imposition. In fact, I should be thanking you for coming to our rescue:: _ He laid a hand on Drift’s shoulder.

Drift looked up at the medic, his blue optics bright in the darkness. _ ::It’s my duty:: _ He responded, softly. _ ::But I didn’t think about that when I heard it was out here. Just thought about you:: _

Drift could feel rather than see Ratchet’s smile, a real one this time. Ratchet said nothing, however, and Drift felt his frame slowly slip into recharge, lulled by Ratchet standing guard and the knowledge that he had gotten there in time.

* * *

Nothing awoke Drift in the night, and when his optics finally fluttered open, he found a larger frame curled around him, one arm lightly tossed over him, not restraining, just comforting. The events of the night before came back to Drift, as he checked his internal chronometer. It would be just after sunrise. 

The twins were still in recharge, though they’d switched positions sometime in the night, Sunstreaker now cuddling Sideswipe. He turned over himself, only to see Ratchet’s face, completely relaxed in recharge, a tiny smile on his face. Drift found himself smiling too. He resisted the urge to trace Ratchet’s face with his free hand. That was not their relationship, as much as he might want it to be.

Two years of seeing the medic once a month, and he wasn’t quite sure when he’d noticed that the medic was absolutely _ gorgeous _. It had hit him on one lonely night a couple months ago, after a dream that left his fans roaring when he woke out of recharge suddenly.

A few more dreams like that and one visit later, and Drift had been forced to admit that he might actually be a little bit in love.

So waking up next to Ratchet, even entirely innocently, was just about half his fantasy come true.

Carefully extracting himself from Ratchet’s arms, he stood up, clipping his swords back on and stepping out into the main part of the cottage, which was completely undamaged.

So the Predacon had left them alone. He’d succeeded for tonight, at least where Ratchet and the twins were concerned. He vented lightly, and went to Ratchet’s cupboard to look for a cube of energon. He’d leave a couple credits to cover it. Then he heard a noise behind him, and when he turned, Ratchet was standing there. 

“Slipping away so early?” Ratchet teased, opening a cupboard near him and pulling out two cubes, offering one to Drift, who took it with a nod.

“I need to. Have to hunt while it’s tired.” Drift said, quietly, opening and downing the cube in three gulps.

“Just be careful, okay?” Ratchet responded, leaning against the counter.

“Always am.” Drift responded easily, setting down his now empty cube. “And I forgot last night, but this is for you.” Drift reached into his subspace and pulled out the large wolf pelt from yesterday. “Get it turned into a blanket for the twins, okay?” The pelt in Ratchet’s hands, Drift headed for the door. Ratchet followed him, and as he unbarred and opened it, Ratchet shifted the pelt to one hand, putting the other out to block his exit.

Drift raised an optic ridge and turned to Ratchet, opening his mouth to speak, when Ratchet suddenly surged forward and pressed his lips to Drift’s, empty hand coming up behind Drift’s helm.

The kiss was short, but heated. Ratchet pulled away, Drift still in shock.

“Come back alive.” Ratchet said, before practically shoving Drift out the door and shutting it behind him.

Drift just cycled his optics, before grinning in spite of what he was about to do.

Even if he hadn’t been planning on it before, he knew now he was absolutely going to follow doctor’s orders.

* * *

It took most of the day, and Drift had been worried at numerous points that he had lost the trail, that it would be another processor-wracking night keeping everyone indoors and alive, but as the day turned to afternoon, Drift found the Predacon’s lair.

It should have been a battle for the ages, mech against beast, but in reality, the Predacon was still asleep, fresh bones of wolves and bears scattered around. 

Well, at least he wouldn’t have to go out hunting for more of those for awhile.

With one swift motion, Drift decapitated the creature. It never knew that it had been killed.

There was nothing of worth in a Predacon body, beside the head for a trophy and the claws for tools, so taking the useful parts only took a few minutes. Drift straightened up once he was done, looking down at the dead creature for a moment more before turning and leaving.

He walked into town just as twilight fell, as usual. Torches were still doused, windows still barred. The only life -- a quiet, terrified sort of feeling -- seemed to be in the tavern, and Drift walked in.

Every mech in the village was there.

Drift just leaned on the doorframe. “It’s dead.” He said, dully, and the whole room sighed in relief.

There was no cheering. It had been too long of a night and day, and so mechs simply nodded, relighting torches and returning to their homes for terror-free rest.

Drift, after dumping the head off at the tanner’s and all but one of the claws off with the toolmaker -- “Keep them.” -- he said, turning away before they could say anything else. 

He disappeared into the forest, having only one destination in mind.

Ratchet had said come back alive. Kissed him.

He desperately wanted to know what that meant. Wanted to kiss Ratchet again, if he’d let him.

The frogs were done croaking by the time Drift made it out there. The cottage was still dark, Ratchet evidently waiting for an all-clear before returning to normal. Drift had to smile at the thought of the twins being cooped up all day.

He heard the twins before he knocked. Loud, boisterous, _alive_.

The noise inside the cottage quieted, and Ratchet opened the door. He saw Drift and his optics widened.

“You’re here.”

“I am.” Drift stepped inside, Ratchet shutting the door behind him.

The twins bounded forward.

“Carrier told us you went out to fight something. What was it?” Sideswipe asked, excited.

“Did you bring back a trophy?” Sunstreaker added, more reserved.

Drift grinned tiredly, pulling out the remaining claw. “Predacon.”

The twins, still young enough and lucky enough to have recharged through the night, had only the Predacons in fairy tales to draw on, and not the spark-deep terror of something that could destroy a house if it wanted to. As a result, their optics went wide over the trophy.

“The head will be in the village.” Drift added. “If Ratchet lets you go see it.”

“Definitely not.” Ratchet headed off the question before it could be asked. “I do not need you having nightmares for the next month.”

“Aww.” The twins moaned.

Ratchet rolled his optics. “Go play in your room for a bit. I need to talk to Drift.”

The twins looked between the two adults, and Sideswipe, grinning, dragged his brother into their room with a suspicious lack of argument.

Ratchet waited until he heard the latch click, then turned to Drift, opening his mouth.

Not fast enough, as Drift was already there, reaching up and cupping Ratchet’s helm in his hand. “Did you mean it this morning?” He asked, quietly.

“Mean what?” Ratchet asked. “That I wanted you back alive?”

“No. You kissed me, Ratchet. A mech might hope that you meant more than just good luck by it.”

Ratchet swallowed. “Do you want it to mean more than that?”

“Did you _ mean _ more than that?” Drift’s optics searched Ratchet’s.

“Yes.” Ratchet finally said, quietly.

Drift’s entire face lit up. “Good. Because I really, really wanted it to mean that I could do this.” He leaned in, brushing Ratchet’s lips with his own, the hand on Ratchet’s helm pulling a little closer, the other gripping his shoulder.

Ratchet settled for wrapping his arms around Drift’s waist.

“Well it’s about time!” Called one voice from the twin’s room.

"Aww!" Called out the other, two grinning faces appearing in the door that had been cracked open once the adults were no longer paying attention.

The two mechs broke apart quickly, faceplates turning blue.

“SIDESWIPE AND SUNSTREAKER, WHEN I GET OVER THERE!” Ratchet snapped without heat, taking one step toward the room. The door was slammed shut with giggles, and Ratchet huffed before Drift pulled him back into a hug.

“Ignore them.” He whispered into Ratchet’s audial. “They’re just happy we finally figured it out.”

  
  
“Doesn’t mean I’m not going to give them an audialful.” Ratchet mumbled back.

“Well, before you go chew them out for being little matchmaking snoops…” Drift trailed off before pressing a kiss to Ratchet’s chevron. “Alright. Go put the fear of Primus into them.” He teased.

“You’ll still be here when I come back out?” Ratchet asked, already taking a step back toward the room.

“No plans to leave, Ratchet.” Drift smiled at him.

No. His mission could wait. This, right here, was what he wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> *awws right along with the twins*
> 
> One more off the pile. Several more to go. *sigh*


End file.
